Viper's Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the wrong hands. She couldn’t be trusted. His smile disappeared. He pulled a nylon restraint out of his pocket and had her wrists trussed before she could blink. The ties were lighter to carry than handcuffs, and just as effective.
    “Wait, no!” she protested, and tried to wrestle free.
    He got off the bike and made his way to the door connecting the garage to the house, snagging her arm as she turned in the opposite direction.
    “Come on,” he said gruffly, dragging her across the garage. She tried to pull her arm from his grasp, so he tugged harder.
    “Wait, where are you taking me? I’m not taking one more step with you unless I get some answers.” He ignored the drag on his arm as Viper tried to dig her heels into the concrete floor, and continued to pull her along.
    “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to scream,” she said slowly and calmly, as though trying not to startle him. He thought of her remarks back at the warehouse yard. And she was acting as though he was the crazy one?
    He turned to her and dragged her close. For a moment they stared at each other, a mere inch apart. He could see the lighter slivers of silver splintering across her irises, and hear her breathing. His body throbbed in unprofessional places. He took a deep breath. The spy smelled of vanilla. Damn . He liked vanilla. He forced his breathing, and hormones, under control.
    “Go ahead. Scream.” He wanted her to know he wouldn’t shy from using physical force on a damn spy.
    Her eyes darted to the side, and he could almost see the wheels spin as she thought it through.
    “I won’t sleep with you,” she warned him.
    His head jerked as if she’d slapped him. What the—? He looked her up and down. Her honey-colored hair looked like it was on its last pin before tumbling down. Wide, apprehensive eyes returned his gaze. Her full bottom lip had a small cut, and her left cheek showed the beginnings of a deep bruise. Her skirt was dirty and her stockings were ripped. When he’d first seen her, her blouse had been a crisp white. Now the torn and bloodstained garment was streaked with dirt and grease. The collar gaped open, and he couldn’t help noticing the bruises forming on her neck. Someone had tried to choke her.
    His lips tightened, and he consciously relaxed his grip on her arm. This woman had been abused. His mama had always said there was no excuse for laying violent hands on a woman, and most of the time he agreed. Unfortunately, in his experience he’d seen women do some unspeakable things. He had to ignore the feel of those womanly curves against him, the hint of vulnerability in her gaze, and that seductive scent. If Viper wanted to get nasty, he wouldn’t hesitate to neutralize her.
    “I prefer my lovers with a little less wear and tear. And willing.” He resumed his walk to the connecting door. This time she followed, head lowered meekly. He’d think she was docile if it wasn’t for the occasional jerk of her arm as she tried to escape his grip. He almost smiled. Docile, my ass .
    He typed a code into the keypad by the door, using his body to obscure it from her view, and the red light flashed to green. A click sounded, and he pulled the door open. He stood to the side and gestured toward the door.
    “After you,” he offered.
    Her arched eyebrows pulled into a frown.
    “Where are we?” She clutched the strap of the bag hanging across her chest, as though it were a lifeline.
    He glanced through the door. This was a safe house owned by the McCormack Security Agency, but she didn’t need to know that. He snorted derisively. “Do you think I’m going to tell you, Viper?”
    He watched as she closed her eyes and took a breath.
    “My name is not Viper,” she said through clenched teeth.
    One eyebrow rose. Ah. She’s pulling that one, huh?
    He sighed. “We can do this the easy way, or we could do this the hard way. Your choice.” He gestured to the door again.
    She stared up at him and chewed on her lip.